


Seaside

by Calesvol



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calesvol/pseuds/Calesvol
Summary: greenphoenix3 requested: I was wandering if you could write one about Bee and Charlie dealing with Bee’s trauma from the war or losing his voice?





	Seaside

Warning(s): G, none

* * *

Behind her house, through the backyard, there was a sloping hill that led onto a grassy path well worn by the former occupants. Tough sea grass tugged in the mild morning breeze, sun slowly rising in a sky already alive and blue; she’d never really been a stickler for being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like her brother Otis sometimes was, and they didn’t really mind that. On the sloping seaside did the stunning view of the Golden Gate Bridge never fail to take her breath away, letting her mind go blank as she just marveled at the place that had been her home for as long as she could remember.

 

“You doing alright back there, Bee?” she called with a grin over her shoulder, jumping off a shallow dune and into the warm, whitewashed sands of the impromptu beach conveniently located near her home. Waves lapped languidly on the shore, there not much boat traffic in the harbor just yet.

 

Bee chirped an affirmative as he bounded a step behind her, metal faceplate twitching in what resembled a demure smile for him. Charlie couldn’t help but flash one of her own, feeling happy here. She always did, almost as much as working on her next big mechanical project or hanging out at her Uncle Hank’s garage did.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Never really had to worry about people from school coming here. Since, y’know how badly that would turn out.” Leaning over exaggeratedly did Charlie do so with the grace of a ballet dancer doing Arabesque, procuring some smooth skipping stones she intended to do just that with.

 

Easily did she chuck one precisely, skipping for several beats before plopping with finality in the water. “Shoot! Usually I can get way more than that. When dad taught me before I went to summer camp one year, I was able to get ten pretty early on. I impressed a lot of people that year. It was nice, making friends.” Charlie tapered off before she sank to sit on her haunches, sighing loudly. Beside her, the clangor of Bumblebee sitting beside her garnered her attention, turning sidelong before the Autobot sat down completely. “It’s gotten better, yeah, but I wonder how long it’ll be before that feeling will go away?”

 

Bee’s florescent cobalt optics flickered towards her, a sympathetic look evident. “It’s not always something you can get over, Charlie. It needs time—“ Bee’s voice cut off and his stare became transfixed on the waters, Charlie craning in worry and bemusement.

 

“Bee, hey. What is it?” Wordlessly did she instead follow his gaze, head rearing back a bit at the sight of a ship loaded with scrap. The blood drained from her face when she saw recognizably blue and scarlet pieces-parts of those Decepticons stick out from the tarp the crew was fixing over it from the sudden gale that scoured off the covering to begin with. “Bee?”

 

Charlie’s voice pitched in concern when Bee’s visor and helm triggered over his features, a harsh red glare glowing ominously from a face she loved so well. Quickly, the brunette scrambled to climb on his lap, holding the sides of his face. “Bee, it’s _okay._ They’re gone. You dealt with them, remember? I’m okay. There’s nothing to worry about anymore,” Charlie consoled, voice a tremble of worry that he’d lose control like he almost did at the Sector 7 base months ago.

 

Bumblebee startled from murderous rapture and caused Charlie to flinch her hands away with a gasp, backpedaling on to the cushy sand that broke her fall, blinking dazed while the Autobot loomed over her worriedly. “Charlie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“

 

Without another word did Charlie sit herself back up and nearly leap at him, engulfing his head in an embrasure to her chest, shushing him in a soothing sussurus. “Bee, it’s okay, I promise. Nothing happened. You didn’t hurt me or anyone else.”

 

Bee’s optics sank shut into her embrace, Charlie feeling the distinct sensation of powerful metallic arms gathering her near, gentle enough not to bruise. “It’s not just them, Charlie, it’s—back on Cybertron. This life we’ve lived. I just want everyone to be safe, but people around me still die. It’s us against them and...it feels like this might never end. That we’ll keep fighting until there’s no one left.”

 

It was a heavy confession that hit Charlie like a freight train. She knew from that recording and what Sector 7 had confirmed—and that fateful night against Shatter and Dropkick—that whatever war was waging was fierce, old, and fraught with casualties. What she underestimated was the personal toll it had taken on Bumblebee, what he’d had to live with, how much heavier it was than just losing her dad. One person had almost broken her; living in a war where anybody could be taken at any moment was something she couldn’t begin to imagine.

 

But with her involvement with Bumblebee, she wondered how long even that might last.

 

“I’m so sorry, Bee,” she murmured, heavily affected and hushed, consumed in this embrace. “I can’t imagine what this has been like for you. Yeah, I lost my dad, but—that’s probably all I’ll ever lose, even...if I thought I almost lost you. I can’t just tell you to get over it. That you’ll just wake up one day and it’ll be over and you won’t lose anyone ever again. I don’t know that.” She pulled away from the embrace to rest their brows together, Bumblebee’s look soft and adoring upon her.

 

“But, I think you can. Because you’re fighting the good fight, Bee. You save people. You save your friends, your family—you saved _me_. I know, sometimes it feels like losing is all you can do, but that’s not all who you are. You’ll never be alone. Even if—“ she laughed at how sappy she was going to sound, throat tight with emotion and adoration for him, “every star in the galaxy goes out, or it gets dark, you’ll have me. I’ll always be there for you, Bee.”

 

Charlie wasn’t naive enough to think that this alone would be enough to take away years of trauma and strife this war had caused Bee, might even continue to. But what she did know was the fact that it could be taken, unpacked, and dealt with. Even if the grief would never really go away. Because if it was really so impossible, then she would have never gotten over her dad’s death. Or better, been able to process what had happened, let herself know it was okay to grieve, and to get her life back.

 

Bumblebee was the same, too. At every turn, just as Bumblebee had been at her side, so would she remain at his.


End file.
